


Breakfast

by Persiflage



Series: Skoulson RomFest 2014 [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Coulson cooks, Domestic Fluff, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Future Fic, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Skye | Daisy Johnson, Resolved Sexual Tension, Thunderstorms, Weekend Break
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-13
Updated: 2015-03-13
Packaged: 2018-03-17 16:48:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3536822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson and Skye are ordered to take a weekend off. A thunderstorm brings a change to their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RowboatCop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RowboatCop/gifts), [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts), [Hazel75](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazel75/gifts), [Skyepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyepilot/gifts).



> Written for the Skoulson RomFest 2k14. YES, I know it's 2015 now, but I wasn't in the fandom then, and also, I liked some of the prompts, soooo here we are...  
> Day 1 prompt: Rain

Skye's already sitting at the kitchen table in the safe house, a mug of coffee beside her as she works on her laptop, when Coulson wanders in, sleepy-eyed, hair mussed up, but a hint of a smirk teasing the corners of his mouth.

"Morning," she says cheerily, amused by the picture he presents in his black SHIELD t-shirt, grey sweatpants, and barefoot – he looks nothing like the mighty Director of SHIELD this morning.

"Morning," he says, smiling properly, his blue eyes full of the light of love. He leans down and kisses the side of her neck, just below her ear, and despite herself, Skye shivers. Coulson hums – she's not sure if it's amusement or approval, but he sounds happy.

"Are you always up this early?" he asks, moving over to the fridge and opening the door.

"This early?" she repeats, glancing at the clock on her laptop. "It's after seven thirty."

He turns around, a box of eggs in one hand and a carton of milk in the other. "Is it?" He sounds so surprised that she chuckles.

"Yeah, Phil. What time did you think it was?"

He shrugs, looking a little sheepish, then sets the milk and eggs down on the counter, before grabbing the butter from the fridge. "Earlier than that," he offers.

She gets up from her chair and crosses over to him as he reaches out to grab a pan, and she slips her arms around him, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck.

"I guess I really wore you out last night, huh?" she teases.

"Mmhmm." His hum is definitely one of approval this time as he presses himself back against her body.

She holds him against her with her left arm around his waist, and slides her right hand up under his t-shirt to rest over his scar. "Are you making breakfast?"

"Scrambled eggs with toast," he tells her.

"Sounds good," she says, "but is that gonna be enough fuel for your day?"

He turns around in her arms, one eyebrow arched high. "Why, what plans do _you_ have for the day? Because I thought this was going to be a quiet, restful weekend away for the two of us."

She chuckles. "Mm, quiet, yes – apart from the moaning – " She quirks her own eyebrow at him, smirking when he looks embarrassed – he'd been far noisier than her last night, "but restful? Not so much."

"Skye?"

"Yeah?"

"You will remember I'm an old man, won't you?" His tone is plaintive, but the look he gives her is teasing, his eyes brimming with mirth, and he can't stop a smirk from curling the corners of his mouth.

"Get outta here," she says, and kisses him quick and hard, palming his cock, which she notes is half-hard, through his sweatpants. "I have work to do. You concentrate on breakfast, and if you're a _very_ good boy, I might let you make out with me later." She gives his cock a quick squeeze, eliciting a moan from him, nips at his bottom lip, then steps away, sashaying (there's no other word for it, she knows) back over to the table.

When she glances back at Coulson, he's staring at her with a very lustful expression, which delights her, and he's pressing down on his now rampant cock. She smirks at him, then sits down and focuses her attention on her laptop.

As she works, she's vaguely aware of Coulson cooking breakfast (he's frying sausages and bacon to go with the scrambled eggs), and humming happily along to whatever's on the radio. It's a very domestic scene, and not one she's ever imagined she'd feature in, not with Coulson at any rate, but she truly doesn't mind the domesticity.

May, Simmons, and Koenig had ganged up on them to badger them into taking a mandatory weekend off, and the two of them had arrived in the middle of a thunderstorm which had started while they were still several miles away from the safe house. Which wouldn't have mattered except that Coulson hadn't bothered putting Lola's hardtop on before they left the base, so by the time they reached the safe house, they were both soaked to the skin.

Coulson had insisted that they get in the shower together so that neither one of them had to wait for the other before they started the warming up process, and although Skye had considered it a dangerous idea (she knew how much she desired Coulson, but she didn't believe he truly desired her, despite his flirting), but he'd made it sound so reasonable, like it was a regular SHIELD protocol, so after only a moment's hesitation she'd stripped off the pink dress she was wearing (the same one she'd worn to Quinn's place in Malta), then her bra and panties, feeling a bit self-conscious, but not too much when she realised that Coulson wasn't ogling her, and stepped into the shower.

Unfortunately – or fortunately – he'd offered to wash her back for her, and having his hands on her body had been too much for her to handle, and she turned around and kissed him. To her relief, he'd kissed her right back, then he'd fingerfucked her to an orgasm that had left her weak-kneed and slightly dizzy.

They'd towelled themselves dry in what Skye was sure was record time, then tumbled into bed together, and enjoyed some very energetic sex until they fell asleep tangled together in what was probably the most clichéd fashion ever, not that Skye minded clichés at least, not with Coulson, anyway.

He sets two plates down on the table, then gives her a frowny look. "You're not supposed to be working," he says. "This is meant to be a weekend off for both of us, after all the long hours I've been working, and the trips away you've been taking for the sake of the Welcome Wagon, and superheroing."

She closes the lid on her laptop and pulls the plate of food closer. "Stop fretting Coulson," she says firmly. "I was just finishing up some stuff I didn't get done yesterday before we left the Playground. Those four days I was away last weekend put me behind."

"I'm sorry," he says gently, sitting down across the corner of the table from her. "I didn't mean to nag. I know you're a grown woman and capable of taking care of yourself."

She reaches over and grabs his hand. "Hey, I appreciate the fact that you care enough to nag." She squeezes her fingers around his before pulling her hand back. "I've set up a couple of things to run in the background. I'll have to check on them later, but they won't need constant supervision or interaction."

He nods, then picks up his cutlery, and begins to eat. Skye digs in to her own breakfast, and watches his face as he talks animatedly about the things they might do today.

The sun's finally up and the air has a post-thunderstorm sparkle to it which makes everything seem fresh and new. The light's hitting Coulson's face, illuminating the lines at the corners of his eyes, and highlighting his nose (ruggedly handsome in Skye's view), and chin (definitely heroic). There's no softening the fact that he is over two decades older than her, but she doesn't care. He's a kind-hearted, caring, goofily romantic man who's always seen the best in her, and wanted the best for her, and for Skye that triumphs any supposed benefits of being with a younger man. Besides, despite his earlier remark about being an old man, he'd proved quite conclusively last night that he has plenty of stamina, and that he can definitely keep up with her.

As soon as they finish eating, Skye gets up from her seat and moves around the table, gesturing for him to move his chair back so she can sit sideways on his lap.

His eyebrows go right up, and she smirks at him before dipping her head to kiss him. It starts out soft and slow, but quickly descends into fast and hard, and he moans into her mouth as his cock stiffens beneath her.

"Now you're suitably refuelled, let's go back to bed," she suggests.

"But don't you want to – " he begins.

"Phil." She cuts him off immediately. "I want to go back to bed with you. I want you to fuck me hard and fast, make love to me slowly, go down on me and eat me out until I can't move – whatever you want to do with me, I want to do with you."

His hand moves from her thigh, where it's been resting, to cup her mound through her sweatpants. "Anything?" he asks softly, but his eyes are dark with lust, and she licks her lips deliberately.

"Yeah, Phil, anything." She leans in to suck his bottom lip into her mouth, then presses her hand against the back of his. "I thought we might go for a ride in Lola after lunch."

He gasps, and his eyes widen; she can't help chuckling. "Admit it, AC, you've thought about fucking me in or on Lola, haven't you?"

"Fuck, Skye," he says, sounding all breathless and needy.

"'Cause I've thought about it," she tells him, guiding his hand inside her pants, and moaning softly when his fingers slide into her hot, wet sex. "I thought about sprawling naked on Lola's hood, my legs spread wide, and you hammering me hard with that big fat cock I knew you were trying to hide under those tailored suits of yours."

He groans, then kisses her hard, his teeth nipping wildly at her lip as his fingers start to plunge more deeply into her.

"Do you want to, Phil?" she asks, beginning to writhe on his lap as her orgasm approaches rapidly.

"Yes," he grunts, then moans as she comes hard, her muscles tightening around his still moving fingers.

After that they go back to bed, and do some of the things Skye had suggested, and others she hadn't, and as they lie sated in a sweaty tangle of limbs afterwards, she wonders who she should thank for yesterday's thunderstorm, because she's deeply grateful for it prompting her and Coulson to finally resolve all the sexual tension that's been between them.


End file.
